My Older Lover
By Manfred
I met him when I was 23, just of our college, and trying to figure out what to do with my life. He was 58, and I would soon become his lover.
A friend's parents had a sort of `open house,' meaning anyone who wanted to could come to dinner, stay the night, just hand around. As I was out of work, and not really interested in finding any, I spent a great deal of time there. It was a large, Victorian house, a few blocks from the lake north of Chicago, and I could get lost there, roaming the neighborhood and getting lost in the expansive library on the third floor.
One evening, there was an older man who sat across from me at dinner, a neighbor who had just happened in for a drink and decided to stay. I had never been with a man before, and was uncertain and confused about my sexuality. But something about him attracted me, and I felt nervous but aroused. That feeling – desire for a man – had never come to me before, and I found it somewhat uncomfortable. He was clearly attracted to me as well; I could tell because most of his attention at the table was directed to me.
Perhaps it is time to tell you something about myself. I am 5'7", about 135 pounds, cute, slender, smooth. I am not very masculine, even a bit feminine if truth be told. I have a full head of auburn hair, and a smooth face which does not require much shaving. I've had a few women, nothing serious, and frankly, none that really excited me. During this time in my life, I was uncertain what I wanted, and that included what sort of relationship. As I mentioned I had never been with a man, although I have to admit that at times when masturbating a man's face would take the place of the woman I had originally fantasized about. But the idea of having a male lover was far from my consciousness.
After dinner that night, I made my way up to the library, as was my usual evening routine. I had been there for 15-20 minutes when he walked in. I was deep in a book, and the sound startled me, causing me to look up wide eyed in surprise. He smiled, even chuckled a bit, and said, "Don't worry, I'm not here to harm you!" Embarrassed, I gave a little nervous laugh in response. He asked what I was reading, and I showed him the novel that I had been reading. He sat in the chair next to me, legs crossed, and looked me in the eye when speaking. We talked for quite a while, and then he said it was getting late and he was heading home. As he left, he turned and said he hoped to see me again sometime.
A little about him: about 5'10", slim, apparently in good shape, silver grey hair, clean shaven, a bit of a tan, nicely dressed. He apparently was well educated, well spoken, somewhat quiet, and a good conversationalist. He was clearly someone who took command of a situation, and I have to say I found him very nice, and even attractive.
I went to bed soon after, but my thoughts kept turning to him. If I was ever to have a male lover, I thought, it would be nice to have someone like him. I was somewhat surprised, alarmed, at these thoughts, but they kept coming back to me. Over the next few days, I thought a lot of him, and our conversation, and hoped I would run into him soon. And that is exactly what happened.
One evening, having returned to my apartment, I decided to have a beer in a local restaurant. While I sat at the bar, I noticed someone take the stool next to me. The person said hello, and when I turned I saw it was my new acquaintance. I gave my startled look again, surprised that it was him (I had been thinking about him most of the day), and he again chuckled. He then put his hand on my left arm, and said he was sorry to have surprised me. I fumbled a bit in response, but he soon had me at ease. "How about another one," he asked, and I thanked him. Calling the bartender over, he told him to bring me another beer, and a scotch, neat, for himself. When the drinks arrived, he asked if wanted to move to a table where it was quieter and we could hear each other better. I said that would be nice.
There was a table tucked away in the corner, quiet, dark, secluded from the rest of the bar, and we took our seats. The chairs were only inches from each other, and our legs touched as we sat next to each other. He told me that he had been thinking of me since we met, and hoped we could meet again. I said I had the same thoughts. He found me interesting, he told me, and put his arm around the back of my chair, leaning in a bit closer. I was a bit nervous, feeling an attraction that I had not before felt, for a man much older than myself.
He told me that he hoped I would not be offended or alarmed if he told me that he was gay, and that he found me quite attractive. "Are you interested in men?" I hesitated in answering, and he said "I think you are, nothing to be ashamed or afraid of." I felt his hand on my leg, slowly, softly caressing me, and I looked up at him, and said, for the first time admitting my attraction, that yes, I was interested. He smiled, and took a sip of his drink. "Let's go back to my place," he suggested, and I agreed.
As it turned out, he lived around the corner, in the top floor of a large, pre-war building. We took the elevator up to his apartment, his hand resting on the small of my back as we rode up. When the doors opened, he motioned for me to follow him, and when we got to his door, he unlocked it and let me in first. He closed the door, and turned to face me. "Don't be nervous," he said, and then took my face in both of his hands, leaned in and kissed me. As he pulled back, he asked if I liked that, and I nodded, unable to say anything. "Let me show you around," he said, and taking my hand, led me around his large place.
At the end of the tour, we entered his bedroom, with its king-sized bed. Pulling me close, he kissed me again, and this time I responded. I could feel his tongue pushing my lips apart, entering my mouth, gently playing with my tongue. He was hard, and so was I, as he held me close, his hands kneading my small, round buttocks. I was so turned on, knowing that this very attractive older man found me attractive, wanted me, and would soon make me his own.
We broke apart, and he told me to undress. He watched as I unbuttoned my shirt, and then my pants, letting them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them, and stood before him, in my underwear only. His fingers reached for the waist band and pushed them down, and I was now naked with another man for the first time. I have a 6 inch cock when it is hard, which it was now, harder than ever, and cut. He stroked it softly, kissing me again. He then told me to undress him, and I obeyed, first unbuttoning his shirt, removing it. He told me to get down on my knees. Again, I obeyed his command, and I reached for his belt, slowly undoing it, then unbuttoning his trousers, and unzipping him. As I pulled his pants off, he reached behind my head, and pulled it close to him, telling me to lick him through his underwear. I did as told, holding a man's cock for the first time, and slowly running my tongue along its length.
He had a nice cock, about 7 inches, cut, and now rock hard. As I continued to lick him, he pushed his underwear down and he was now naked as well. Again holding the back of my head, he told me to open my mouth, and pushed his cock inside. I could feel his hardness, and the sponginess of this cock head as my mouth closed around it. What a thrill this was for me, and I worshiped his cock, moving back and forth, feeling it twitch, and hearing him moan. "I thought about this when we first met," he said, "I thought you would be a good cocksucker. But I also want to be inside you. Let's get in bed."
He lay on his back on the bed, and motioned me over to him. He told me to sit on top of him, my ass about level with his cock. As I did, he pulled me down towards him and we kissed, passionately, for some time, all the while feeling his hands softly exploring my young body. I was very excited, and I would have done anything he asked me to do. I could feel his cock running along crevice between my buns, and he asked if I was ready. I nodded, unable to speak but clearly wanting him. He told me to get a condom from the night stand, and I reached over to get one, his hands on my hips. He opened it, and told me to put it on his cock. I obliged, unrolling it with my hand, feeling his cock, knowing that he would be inside me soon. He took a tube of lube from the drawer, and put some on his had, reaching between my legs to prepare me.
He then told me to raise myself over his cock, and pulling my buns apart, to lower myself as he guided his tip to my hole. I felt him pressing, and he told me to relax, we'd go slow, and at my pace. I could tell he was excited too, and I wanted so badly to be a good lover to him. After a few deep breaths, I pushed down, and his cock head entered me, a feeling I had never had before, and which even after all of our lovemaking over the next years never left me. I let his cock stay inside me for a little while, getting myself used to the feeling, and then his hands pushed down on my hips, until he was fully inside me. I leaned over him, and our eyes met, and I kissed him. He began to move inside me, slowly pulling himself out and then back in. My heart was pounding, and I my cock jumped up and down. Our breathing was hard, and I could feel him getting ready to cum. With a loud moan, and a shudder, he did, spasming inside me, as I came too, shooting onto his chest.
I collapsed in his arms, and he kissed me, stroking my hair, and telling me how much he enjoyed fucking me. "I loved it! I exclaimed, hoping he would want me again and again. I could him shrink up inside me, and finally he slipped out. He told me to take off his condom, and I did, noting that it was full of his cum. He asked if I would clean him, and I reach for a tissue. "With your mouth, I meant," he said. I looked at him, and finally catching on, I smiled, lowering my mouth over his now only semi-hard cock. Licking and sucking, I tasted a man's cum for the first time, and found it wonderful. Afterwards, I lay next to him, my head on his chest, his arm around me, and we drifted off to sleep.
So that is the story of my first male lover. We became a couple, and I moved in with him, not caring who knew that I was gay and that I was in love with a man. For his part, he took good care of me, teaching me how to love and make love to a man, and letting me express my inner desires. We were together for nearly twenty years, until his death in his late 70's. Perhaps I will write about our lives together in another entry – it was an interesting, exciting period of my life, full of adventure (including much sexual adventure!), one that will stay with me forever.